


Reward from the Wicked

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Monster Girl, Snakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 17:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16100786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: A twist on the tale of the Farmer and the Viper.  He rescued a serpent-girl from the cold, but as she grows, she decides to indulge in her nature, much to his chagrin.





	Reward from the Wicked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spinning_yarns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinning_yarns/gifts).



“Are you alright?”  He asked, into the dark of the barn.  He’d heard _something_ moving around in the old building, smashing up things.  He’d come in as fast as he could, holding up the lantern and looking around.

There was a rustling, and her head popped up from behind a cart.  She tilted her head and then hunched.  She slid across the straw-strewn ground on her belly until he reached his feet, then raised herself up so she was his height.

From about the navel up, she was human, mostly.  A few stray scales on her cheeks aided her mane of long, wild black hair in framing her face.  Her skin was the only a few shades lighter than her coppery scales, making it hard to notice except on close inspection.  She had a few more scales along her shoulders and back, and her breasts were absolutely covered in them.

But the differences didn’t really start until the waist, where instead of legs she had a long, serpentine tail.  Skin gave way fully to scales, same coppery color as the ones on her face and torso on the sides and along her back, with large, pale-colored plates along her front or underside. 

Her forked tongue flicked in and out, while she stared at him with her usual, passive expression.  She looked perennially bored, and maybe she was.  

He found her two winters ago, while he was out hunting to supplement the food he’d saved up for the winter.  She was so small then, wrapped in fur—he had thought her an infant someone had abandoned to the woods to die.  Hell, she might’ve been exactly that.  It was only after he had brought her to his home and went to switch out her blanket, wet with melting snow, for a roughhewn one of his own that he noticed the differences.

She spent the winter lethargic, barely moving or eating.  He assumed she would die, but tried to tend to her as best he could—despite her appearance she was a creature from one of the gods, as his wife would say.  That woman had worked a spell on him, he still prayed to the cattle gods forgiveness every time he needed to slaughter one of his herd.

Twelve years dead and she still had that impact.

The snake-woman did not die, although how much was due to his aid and how much was not was completely unknown to him.  In fact, with the spring thaw, she moved with almost boundless energy, slinking around his cabin and harrying his animals.

She grew up fast.  Shooting from barely a toddler from the waist up through childhood and adolescence, by the fall she was solidly a teenager.  She clearly had a sense of gratitude, for when the wolves had come in the summer she had fended them off, pursued them in the forest, and came back dragging a wolf corpse. She protected his livestock ferociously, and he kept her fed and gave her a roof to live under. Alone out here, with so many chores to do, he never did make time to go to the city to learn what manner of beast she was. She was just she, and she helped him.

He’d tended her wounds when she was harmed protecting his herds and she hissed in pain as he did so. She'd listen intently when he sang songs or said prayers, and she'd mimic little tics of his, her only real shows of happiness when she pulled off one of his behaviors perfectly.  That winter she wasn’t quite so lethargic, although she still slept much of the day and never strayed far from the nearest source of heat.

“Is something wrong?” He asked.  She understood his words, even if she could not speak them.

She raised her hand and gestured towards herself, then tilted her head towards the forest.  Her entire body looped around and she slithered in the direction she had indicated.  He moved to follow, when she paused and looked over her shoulder.  In an instant, she had doubled back, her tail coiling around, wrapping around his knees and hips. She tightened her grasp on him, holding his chin in one of her hands. He'd seen this before, when a bear wandered too close to the farm and she lashed out at it.

She was going to kill him.

She hunched herself down, bringing her face dangerously close to his.  She didn’t look bored anymore, serene smile, or what would have been a serene smile on a woman, crossed her face.  A taloned hand reach out and brushed against his face, almost gently.

Then the claws raked his cheek, gently, but he could feel the warm wetness leaking out, quickly beginning to solidify.

She muttered, a halting, fumbling attempt at words.  “Maa… Muuh…”

“Stop.” He tried to command, like when she had attempted to attack one of his cattle.  He’d had to drive her away from the animal with a stick, and she still flinched when he shouted at her, sometimes almost looked hurt when he yelled.  She was not flinching now.

“Miiiiiiine.” She finally managed, her face brightening as she managed it.  Her smile widened far past a person’s normal limits, she displayed her mouthful of razor teeth as her lips parted, and then her cheeks split until her grin was ear-to-ear.   She threw her arms around his shoulders and held him against her chest tightly.  Painfully.  “Miiine.  Mine.”

She broke the embrace and leaned back, looming over him.  He swung his free arm, trying to strike her; he had no idea what prompted this attack but he’d be damned if he didn’t give the thing that would kill him Hell.

She caught the arm with one hand, opened her mouth wide, and bit.  It was complete and total agony, blinding, blazing pain as those sharp teeth pierced.  And then it stopped, a spreading, cold lack of feeling crept from her bite.  The fingers of a hand trying desperately to grab something to scratch and tear stopped listening to him.  The arm became to heavy to hold up.

He gasped in the breath she allowed him when her coils loosened around him.  He was dizzy the numbness spreading.

Her taloned hands latched onto his shirt and tore it from him, drawing shallow red lines in his skin as she did so.  He mumbled, off balance, he was so tired.  She ran her hands across his chest, muscle and bone and flesh and gray hair.  She got in close and examined one of his nipples, rubbing her palm on it, before, clutching the mass of scales on her own chest.  She looked confused.

Disoriented as he was, that was hilarious.  She looked up at his insane, barking laugh and mimicked it badly.

She was more careful with her claws when she began tearing his pants off.  Somewhere in his foggy mind, he registered how slow she was doing this.  She grabbed between his legs as soon as she tore all the necessary cloth away from his crotch and he yelped.  Concern flickered on her face when he cried out, and let go of his cock for a moment.  Then, drawing her face down and studying his genitalia intently, she against gripped him, slightly at first, then steadily increasing the pressure she applied.  Curiously and cautiously, she pumped the member up and down a few times, before giving that too-wide grin.

He mouthed stop, but no sound came out.  She kept it up, her black tongue flicking against the head of his cock, and he groaned inarticulately—the best protest he could manage.  When she let him go and pulled away, he was rock hard. 

The snake woman lifted him up, coils running around him, talons carving new furrows as she handled his limp body meticulously.  She had an awkward time moving his dead weight and herself around until his cock lined up with a soft spot on her underbelly.  Then she cinched her tail tight around him, pulling him in, forcing him to penetrate her.

Numb as he was, he barely felt her cold flesh around him.  Barely.  She ran against him, back and forth, wet and cold and he just was erect inside of her.  It was agonizingly slow while his head pounded and he tried to figure a way out tin his half-addled mind, but also tireless.  She kept pace for a long, long time, enough for feeling to start to return.  She held his wrists to stop him from striking or prying her off, rested her chin against his shoulder and continued her ministrations.

The slow build was excruciating. As she continued, he tried to warn her to stop again.  She didn’t listen.  He zoned out then and there, thinking of almost anything else until she pushed him to an agonizing climax.  Her coils slackened only slightly as his head swam.  He was too tired to do much of anything but lay on the ground as she embraced him and repeated it over and over.

“Mine.”

* * *

He awoke in his bed, staring at the ceiling, aching.  He was constantly numb now, sleeping most of the day.  Since the leaves had fallen, he would’ve waited for her to slow down and then… gotten away?  Killed her?  But instead he just laid there; he was slowed down every bit as much as she was.  If not more.

She approached the bed again, raising herself up to press her body against his.  Her taloned hands ran along his bare chest, at the peeling, patchy skin on his torso.  Her tongue flicked out, and she stared at him with her never-blinking eyes.  Her tongue tickled his skin, and he shuddered..  She was in the mood again.

She grabbed the sheet she had wrapped him in and pulled it down.  He forced himself to stare at the ceiling.  He’d seen enough, the dry, brittle, atrophied legs that didn’t work, and the pale, scaly skin that reached to the foot of the bed.  It wasn’t quite like her tail yet, even though it was getting that way.  She pulled him off of the bed, lining them up; he was in the mood whenever she was in the mood now.  He curled his arms around her, holding her tight as she wrapped her tail around him. 

There wasn’t any urgency in her movements now, she had him.  He was up when she wanted it, and was awake only when she was.  He couldn’t quite move as well as she could at this juncture, even if he was developing to be closer and closer to her.  When he had finally lost it all and become like her, he had no idea what he would do to her.  Except that was a lie, he had some very solid ideas.

When she gave him that smile, he returned it.  He did not want to escape when she gave that grin, when she coiled around him and held him.  He just wanted to hold her too, and they would lay together while she fucked him.  It was getting hard to focus and to think very much.  The farm would last the winter, and then they would see what would happen.

He noticed more things about her now, slight tells in the way she held herself that bared her mood to him, distinctions between the various hisses.  The way she had been getting thicker around the abdomen; something  he’d noticed was progressing.  She would keep getting bigger, and part of him cursed his immobility. He wanted to go out and hunt and bring back wolves and deer and anything else he could catch.

He wanted to provide for his family.


End file.
